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Search : Chapter I of The Magic Starts Arc Blaze sighed as he embarked once more into a journey to find himself a true home. It had only been a few moons after his sister died, but her voice and spirit would remain forever in his heart. The road was rocky; he kicked some pebbles away. Nothing was the same since the Twolegs went away in some giant hard silver-gray stuff, with flames behind them. How could they leave such a perfect world? Blaze didn't see the reason. He stared at his paws. Blaze was a ginger tom, with fur sticking out of his head. Many cats had laughed at him because of it, but it made him special, so he appreciated it. Whatever way he tried to get rid of that sticking-out fur, it was impossible. His journey hadn't gone well. Already, two toms and a she-cat had asked him to take them in and journey with him. His answer was a single, clear word: never. If he was going to find a home, it would be a home for only him and nobody else. His sister was dead. What use could another cat be? Blaze would just.. catch prey and live his own life on a make-shift den. He glanced around, and stopped speechless. This couldn't be right... "Idiot, idiot, idiot," he growled under his breath. He had been going the same path from where he had came. I guess I'll just continue. No point for me in doing anything exciting. If only his life now could've been back in the old days... Formerly, he had been the tom she-cats adored. He was conisdered by all the she-cats to be 'too good-looking to hunt or fight'. Because of that, nobody ever taught him how to hunt or fight. His mother, father, everyone had told him that he was just too handsome to do things on their own. He disliked it, yes, but now he wanted to go back to those days. "Can I come with you?" a dark gray she-cat asked, laying sprawled on a field next to the road the Twolegs had built, in which Blaze was walking. "No," Blaze replied coldly. "Why should I let you come with me?" He stopped to see the she-cat's reaction. After all, he had plenty of time. "You're heartless," the she-cat hissed. Blaze shrugged; it was the Twoleg's fault for all the kittypets who were now homeless. Why did the kittypets have to blame him? He was only a simple tom, a handsome simple tom. He glanced at an abandoned Twoleg house. This had to be his final rest stop. The ginger tom prepared to hunt. Twoleg houses were usually crowded with cats., with a cat who was the one who controlled the entire Twoleg house. Cats could enter and sleep wherever they would like, plus free food the 'controller' and his assistants caught, but they had to pay a prize to the 'controller': a piece of prey. Blaze had learnt to hunt somewhat while his sister was training. He often copied her moves, but not that often. All he had seen was his only chance to survive. While he stalked, a rabbit darted from the corner of his view. He ran after it, and, eventually, caught it, but he had to admit it: it was a messy catch. He shrugged, prey was prey after all, and in this world without Twolegs, it was the thing everyone needed to survive. He padded over to the Twoleg house, and knocked the door with his paw. "Who is it?" a snappy and rough voice asked. "Do you have your piece of prey?" Blaze nodded. "Yes." The door swung open, and, surely, an old cat was standing over by the door. He was a light gray tom with blue eyes, plus a few scars in his flanks. The old tom wheezed as Blaze laid his prey, and then asked, "Who are you?" "You can call me Blaze," the ginger tom meoewed, shrugging. "Now, will you let me in the Twoleg house or will you allow me to stay out here and die?" He unsheathed his sharp, almost unused claws. "And you can call me Old Gray," the tom coughed. "And yes, of course you can enter... Blaze." Blaze entered without second thoughts. This was definitely one of the most well-kept Twoleg houses he had ever seen. He smirked with victory; soon, his search would be over.